Page 31 of Third Crime’s A Charm (Princes Take New York #3)
Twenty
T ruman,
I hope it all works out the way you wanted it to.
MvH
Truman had excused himself to call his mother and found a note from Matteo when he returned. Instead of panicking and sending Neville after him, Truman decided to give Matteo some time and space to think.
“He’s at the Olympia. Do you want me to get him, boss?” Neville asked but Truman shook his head.
“Matteo is feeling vulnerable and doesn’t know if he can trust me. Chasing and intimidating him won’t help. I’ll fix everything with Matteo once this situation with Lonsdale is resolved.”
“Good thinking, boss. Maybe the two of you could go away again. You seemed real happy at the beach house,” Neville said before he took himself off, leaving a disgruntled Truman in his wake.
“Don’t see how that’s any of his business,” he grumbled at his planner and began crossing things off.
With the exception of a few high priority appointments, everything was canceled for the next six weeks.
And Truman already knew where their first trip would be once things were settled with Marty.
He’d start by winning over Matteo’s brothers and cousin.
No more games and this time, Truman would do things the right way instead of making Matteo an accomplice and scaring his family.
But Truman couldn’t win anyone over until their business with the feds was completed and there was still a lot to be done to prepare for the big showdown.
It was probably better that Matteo wasn’t there.
Truman spent most of the night working and only got a few hours of sleep.
But he had his deal prepared, ready to offer the star in exchange for the reward and immunity for Peter.
He had also prepared an alternate plea for Marty.
With the star no longer on the table, Marty would cooperate and testify against several of his former clients in exchange for reduced charges on his pending indictments.
The temptation to run across the park to Strawberry Fields and the Olympia had been strong but Truman had kept to their usual route.
After their run, he dressed quickly and had a light breakfast before leaving for the office.
Meeting at one of the Justice Department’s offices would alert the media so they had all agreed to use one of Truman’s conference rooms.
Several agents and lawyers from the District Attorney’s office were already communing in Truman’s lobby when he stepped out of the elevator.
“Morning, ladies and gentlemen,” he said with a pleasant smile and offered them all a salute.
“The guest of honor and our expert aren’t here yet but we’ll get this underway as soon as everyone’s arrived.
Breakfast is being served in the conference room, if you’ll follow Todd.
” Truman raised a hand as he stepped aside, gesturing at the young intern who had appeared behind him.
“Right this way, please,” Todd told them and Truman greeted the people he recognized and did his best to shake everyone’s hand.
“I’ll be right with you,” Truman called, then rushed to his office. “Any word on Marty?” he asked as he handed his assistant his briefcase. Another arrived to take Truman’s overcoat.
“He’s en route and will arrive in about five minutes,” Marissa said as she opened the case and hunted for the statements and agreements Truman would need for the meeting. She quickly scanned the Post-It note on the sealed envelope and tucked it under Truman’s meeting notes.
“Dr. Hastings from Sotheby’s is on the way up, sir,” Todd said as he leaned in through the door. “I’ll greet her when she gets off the elevator and show her to the conference room.”
“Thank you, Todd.” Truman took out his phone to see if Matteo had messaged since he’d gotten out of the limo, then handed it to Marissa. “I don’t care what happens in there, you let me know if von Hessen calls or texts.”
“Yes, sir. Here you go,” she said, handing him the thick leather folio and the case files.
Truman would take notes later for his own personal use but Marissa was a trained stenographer and would keep a full transcript for Lonsdale’s file.
There would also be an audio recording but that was off the record because no one needed to know the room was bugged.
Matteo would get to listen to the recording as soon as Truman could get it downloaded, along with the transcripts and copies of the final statements.
Without the star, Marty would have no choice but to take whatever Truman had prepared and would leave the building in federal custody.
Once Marty was out of the building, Truman would present his deal and the star would be officially out of his hands.
Truman would have no doubts that Matteo hadn’t been implicated in any way and Peter was in the clear.
The State Department and the Department of Justice were going to love Truman in approximately two hours.
The star, Marty, and his testimony against several serious, high-level criminals was of far more value to them than the star and plain, old Peter.
That kind of deal would put a massive target on Marty’s back, “unfortunately.” It would be in everyone’s best interest to get him out of the state and into a federal facility as quickly and as quietly as possible.
Truman had obviously hand-picked the individuals Marty would give evidence against and would keep an eye on him in prison.
There was an extra bounce in Truman’s step as he strolled to the elevator and smugly offered an arm just as the bell dinged and the doors opened.
“Shall we, Marty?” he asked, grinning at the riveted faces on the other side of the glass in the conference room.
“Morning, Tennyson,” Marty said as he took Truman’s arm. Four guards had come up with him and they followed as Truman led Marty to the conference room. “Let’s get this bullshit over with so I can get on with my life.”
Truman snorted wryly. “This is the thanks I get for arranging all of this and opening up my home to you,” he said with a shake of his head and started making introductions but Marty shut it down.
“I don’t give a fuck who’s here as long as God and the law are happy. I hope you weasels are enjoying your fancy coffee and pastries. This shit is costing me a fortune,” Marty said with a belligerent sneer.
“Now, now.” Truman wagged a finger. “It costs nothing to be gracious. Have a seat,” he said and pulled out the chair at the head of the table for him.
Truman preferred to remain standing, commanding everyone’s attention and assuming authority. He received a conspiratorial wink from Marty as he lowered into his seat.
“You couldn’t pick a room on the ground floor?”
“You shouldn’t have waited until I left Chicago to decide you were ready to make a deal. I have a ground-floor conference room there,” Truman said, causing Marty to wheeze as he slapped the table.
“This is why I love him. Never once has he kissed my ass.”
Truman nodded. “You want your ass kissed, hire a sex worker.” There was a pregnant pause as the government employees wondered if it was safe to laugh but a wave of titters and coughs made its way around the table.
“Shall we get to business?” Truman asked the room and opened his folio.
“These are the terms of my client’s offer and the details of what he is willing to provide in exchange for his cooperation and testimony,” he began, offering the woman from Sotheby’s an apologetic smile.
“This might be a little dry but I’ll do my best to be as quick as possible. ”
As Truman had warned, formal declaration of Marty’s statement and an inventory of the numerous files, photos, and ledgers was read off, as well as an outline of charges the defendant was facing.
Of course, the evidence Marty was offering had been cherry-picked to implicate only one person, Peter, and he would be the only person Marty would testify against. If he could produce the actual star.
“Without further delay,” Truman said, giving the floor to Marty.
He rose, grinning from ear to ear as he reached inside his coat and pulled the velvet bag from the chest pocket. “You do the honors, Tennyson. You know how bad my old hands are.”
As he had before, Truman untied the knot and dumped the star onto Marty’s cupped palms. They shook even more than they had in his basement, all those months ago, and Truman still felt a pang of sympathy.
He reminded himself of all the terrible things Marty had done and what he planned to do to Peter.
His time has come.
“We give you Sisi’s star,” Truman declared as Marty held it up, setting off a burst of whispers.
The room separated into various clusters as the agents and attorneys put their heads together to discuss their next move.
“We were hoping it was Sisi’s star when you said you had a missing European treasure,” a senior FBI agent said as he shook Truman’s and Marty’s hands.
“This would be an extraordinary conclusion to a fascinating mystery,” Dr. Hastings said excitedly. “I had hoped that I’d live to see it returned but to be one of the first people in over twenty-five years to inspect it is an honor.”
“I felt the same way the first time I saw it,” Truman said, smiling through the shame. He’d see what he could do to make it up to her.
“Shall I?” she asked and held up a metal briefcase.
“Please do!” Truman said with a nod at Marissa and Todd. “Let’s make sure the doctor has plenty of light and room to work.”
“I don’t need that much and I have everything I need in here,” she explained as she opened her case.
There were various small tools and dropper bottles of agents for testing metals.
She selected a jeweler’s loupe and opened it.
“We’ll start with a basic examination,” she said, then thanked Marty for the star when it was handed over.
“Walter Bronn set up the deal and checked it out himself. He was the best jeweler in Chicago for fifty years,” Marty boasted but Truman gave him a nudge and shook his head.
“You didn’t have any other dealings with Bronn or any other involvement with him,” he advised, staring at Marty hard enough to give him a nose bleed. Why would that clown bring up Bronn and implicate himself in an unsolved murder?
“That’s right,” Marty said and immediately piped down.
“Hold on…” Dr. Hastings put down the loupe and picked up a dental pick.
She scratched one of the star’s gold points and then one of the larger diamonds.
“Oh, dear.” She gave the pearl a scrape and picked up the loupe again, squinting into it.
“The gems are fake and the setting is plated,” Hastings announced, appearing sincerely disappointed as she handed the star back to Marty.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he growled and she laughed nervously.
“I beg your pardon, sir, but it’s a fake. A very good one, but definitely a fake. You can’t scratch a diamond and the pearl is enamel.”
“No!” Marty shook his head, turning redder and redder. “That’s not possible!” he shouted, then grabbed his chest. “Call an ambulance!” he said and fell forward onto the table.
“Marty?” Truman dove and caught Marty before he slid onto the floor. Truman’s first thought was that Marty was faking it to get out of the building but knew it was serious when his face turned purple. “Christ, Marty. Hold on!”